


undaunted

by kornevable



Series: unwavering will - roy week 2021 [6]
Category: Fire Emblem Heroes
Genre: Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:49:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28843383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kornevable/pseuds/kornevable
Summary: “You can’t seriously believe you alone have the power to change the course of someone’s life. This would be a fool’s fantasies.”“I’m not saying that I can for sure.” Roy shakes his head. “But maybe it will make a difference. Don’t you… wish that some events of your life went differently?”Knowing what the future holds for them—Roy and Felix have diverging opinions on the matter. / Free Day of Roy Week
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius & Roy (Fire Emblem)
Series: unwavering will - roy week 2021 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2103630
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	undaunted

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up being a lot more about Felix than about Roy hjksd Still, Roy's thoughts and opinions are reflected strongly in the fic!
> 
> There are mild spoilers about FE6, but nothing that FEH hasn't already spoiled... iirc...

“Hey. You’re Roy, right?”

Roy pauses in his movement, sword poised just above the shoulder of a training dummy. He blinks.

“Yes, that’s correct. You’re one of the newest heroes…?”

“Felix Hugo Fraldarius. I sparred with a supposedly younger version of you the other day.”

Ah. The Felix that Sylvain and Ingrid, and occasionally Dimitri, have talked about. Their other childhood friend who trains day and night to become the best swordsman, and who never hesitates to express his honest opinion on everything, especially when it’s combat-related. Roy didn’t know what to expect, but it is certainly not a young man wearing a festive costume while scowling like the entire world’s negativity manifested onto his face.

“Oh, um, did you spar with a sword or a bow?” Roy asks, eyeing the cheerful bow strapped on Felix’s back.

Felix scoffs. “With a sword, obviously. I wanted to see how strong the heroes are in this realm. He wasn’t bad, but since you’re older you’re probably better.”

This means Felix trained with the version of Roy still in the middle of the war, who was barely able to use the Binding Blade when he was first summoned to Askr. He got better as time passed, but he still hasn’t gotten rid of his unstable grip on the blade’s handle or of his habit of falling into a defensive position first and foremost. If Felix is seeking him out, it means the spar probably went better than expected, and he’s looking for a new challenge.

Roy is familiar with this type of people—Askr is full of warriors happy to cross blades with anyone willing to, in order to assess their own skills and to discover new techniques they wouldn’t have suspected. He lowers his training sword and shifts on his feet to fully and properly face Felix.

“I will gladly spar with you, if this is what you want,” he replies with a smile. “Right now?”

“Great.” Felix lets out a huff of amusement. “I hope you’re not underestimating me because of my ridiculous get-up. Get ready to lose.”

Roy chuckles. “I never take my opponents lightly.”

Roy does get distracted during the first few minutes because of Felix’s hat bouncing on his head, a motion that doesn’t belong on the body of someone as serious as him, but Roy quickly learns he needs to focus on the match like his life depends on it. Felix is fast; he looks much more at ease with a sword in his hand than firing arrows at a distance, moving as though a storm carries him.

Fir and Rutger fight similarly—Roy remembers the sparring sessions he used to have with them, and retaliates accordingly. He raises his weapon in a blocking stance, doesn’t linger and quickly thrusts forward. Felix reacts just as fast, sidestepping before launching into a series of slashes of his own. They are short and precise, always aiming at a strategic spot that would make Roy lose his balance or leave one side of his body unprotected. But Roy didn’t win a war with his wits alone.

They end up sparring for long minutes that turned into an hour. Felix won more matches, but Roy isn’t upset—he still has much to learn and Felix’s aggressive yet calculated fighting style makes it a fascinating object of study. They’re both exhausted by the time they call it a day, but the smiles on their faces are enthusiastic (if Roy can consider the satisfied grin on Felix’s face as enthusiastic).

“As I thought, you’re better,” Felix says. “Fighting against older versions of people you’ve met is probably the most interesting part of this incomprehensible situation. It’s not a total waste of time, in the end.”

“It’s true that learning from all these heroes is an opportunity we shouldn’t miss,” Roy agrees. “It’s sometimes awkward to face your younger self, though. I could give him some tips…”

Roy doesn’t want to remember the days when he was a stumbling and stuttering mess, at the head of an army too large for his skills. He had thought that it would be great if someone could assure him that he would become a decent general, but the support of his friends and family had been enough to make him keep going, even if it was hard. Still, some encouraging words from one version to another never hurts.

“Hmpf. That’s naive,” Felix says, losing all of his relaxed aura. “Nobody can guarantee that everything will go as exactly as you’ve lived it. Maybe some events will be different for this other version of yourself.”

Roy frowns. “You’re right. But I think it’s worth a shot. If there was a disaster bound to happen, I think that I would like my younger self to know about it and not experience it.”

He thinks about the fall of Araphen and the loss of Lord Hector, about the death of countless people they could have saved, of enemies that could have been their allies. Melady couldn’t stop crying when she saw Galle appearing beside her; Chad, Lugh and Raigh followed Lucius around like they feared he would disappear; and Roy himself stuck close to his mother, too elated to think about anything else.

“If there is a chance I can make it better, I’d like to seize it,” he asserts.

Felix scowls, crossing his arms over his chest. He glares at Roy.

“You can’t seriously believe you alone have the power to change the course of someone’s life. This would be a fool’s fantasies.”

“I’m not saying that I can for sure.” Roy shakes his head. “But maybe it will make a difference. Don’t you… wish that some events of your life went differently?”

Roy sees the exact moment Felix decides this conversation isn’t worth his time. If he was glaring at first, he now looks murderous, clenching his jaw so hard his entire posture is stiff with anger. It’s the posture of someone who doesn’t want to dwell further on painful questions.

Roy backtracks immediately. “I’m sorry, it’s not my place to ask such personal questions—”

“Don’t bother, you made your point. I’m leaving.”

Felix almost stomps his way out of the training ground. Roy watches his back retreating, an uncomfortable lump settling in his throat as he picks up the swords and puts them away.

* * *

Roy feels guilty. He knows he can’t get along with everyone, but he caused distress to Felix and he’d like to at least try to apologize. Other heroes, mostly from Fodlan, tell him that this is how Felix is, and that there’s no need to seek him out when he was the one to have stormed out like he did.

Still. Roy doesn’t like leaving amicable relationships in shambles like this.

One thing is certain, Felix trains regularly and spends an unhealthy amount of time in the training ground before grabbing something from the dining hall at dinner time. It makes it easy then to corner him—even if the intense energy he’s exuding is screaming at Roy to stay far away.

“Felix, I’m really sorry about the other day,” he says as a greeting, a few steps away from Felix.

Felix doesn’t stop his training, grunting in a vague acknowledgment of Roy’s presence. Roy isn’t deterred.

“People have called me naive all my life, but I don’t think it’s… completely bad to wish for better circumstances. I consider my younger self lucky to have me as a proof that everything will go alright.”

Like struck by lightning, Roy grasps at the newfound thread that could tie Felix to the matter at hand.

“I’ve met Prince Dimitri, and his older version who is now King of Faerghus.”

Felix jerks his head towards him in an abrupt motion, baring his teeth.

“Don’t bring up the boar,” he seethes. “There is nothing to say about him.”

“I simply wanted to say that the situation is the same for him,” Roy continues, not backing down. “The King of Faerghus most likely wants to advise his younger self to avoid all the tragedy that will happen. I know he, Claude and Edelgard discussed about the benefits and the drawbacks of telling what the future is made of.”

“That doesn’t mean anything to me. Your point of view is stupid.”

Roy sighs. “I’m not asking you to agree with me. Is it so hard to simply imagine you can make someone happier, or save them, if you had the necessary knowledge beforehand? Wouldn’t it bring you relief? I don’t think it’s foolish to want their happiness.”

He might have gone too far. Felix is gripping his sword with such force that breaking it won’t come as a surprise.

“I don’t care,” Felix repeats viciously. “What if the tragedy can’t be avoided? What if by avoiding it you create a bigger mess? What if your advice isn’t heeded? Some people don’t listen to what you’re saying. For a general that led an entire army and won a war, you’re more delusional than I thought.”

Maybe that anger is justified, if Felix truly believes that nothing could have prevented all the tragedies of his life. Maybe that stubborn blindness to a different future or a brighter past is born out of years of regret. Roy stares as Felix relaxes his grip on his sword before adjusting it in his hand to whack at the training dummy. It’s a clear attempt at dismissing the conversation.

“So hearing from the King of Faerghus wouldn’t satisfy any of your inquiries about the future?” Roy asks quietly.

“No,” Felix grits out a bit too quickly. “Stop asking such inane questions. I’m not like you. If you’re content following a ready-made path for you, then that’s your problem. I prefer choosing my own path.”

It’s not an answer nor a truth, but Roy might understand Felix better. The feelings attached to their diverging opinions on the question make them too intimate to see where the other is coming from. But at the very least, Roy understands that need to prove not everything is set in stone.

“Very well,” he relents. “I know what you mean. I apologize again for pushing the topic. I hope… I hope you will be able to find what you’re looking for.”

Felix doesn’t reply, landing a blow with more strength than necessary. Roy takes it as his cue to leave before he’s tempted to say something else.

It takes another kind of strength, to wholly believe that one is the only master of their fate, shackled by nothing but their own personal fight.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! Kudos and comments appreciated <3
> 
> / twitter


End file.
